I chuckle. “It’s great, Nora.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
Clive nods, his thick fingers dominating the back of her neck. “You heard her, Nora. It’s great.”
Nora looks up at him and even I feel a little second-hand heat radiating between their gazes.
She clears her throat. “Well, it’s getting late…”
I glance at my watch. “It’s nine-thirty.”
She stands up, and Clive follows. “Yeah, but I was in the office all day today and I’m just… really tired.”
I smile. “Say hi to Judy for me.”
Clive looks down as Nora’s guilty lips twitch. “Bye, guys!”
“Bye!” Trix and I say.
“Yeah. See you next time,” Lance adds.
Nora grasps Clive’s hand and pulls him toward the exit.
Trix stands. “We should probably get home, too. I have an early meeting with my brothers tomorrow before brunch.”
“Meeting for what?” I ask.
“Oh, you know.” She shrugs. “Future of the family, this. Restoring our honor, that.”
I smile. Argento Barbie is back.
Lance steps behind her with her jacket. I die internally once again. Just the basic, gentlemanly act of him helping her put on her coat is enough to make me want to sink even deeper into my stupor.
I pick up my glass and pour the rest of it down my throat.
“You coming?” Trix asks. “We can give you a ride home.”
“No, thanks,” I say. “I think I’ll stay and people-watch for a bit.”
She nods. “All right. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I give a quick wave. “See you tomorrow.”
“Bye, Melanie,” Lance says, hooking his arm with hers.
I force a smile, holding it for as long as it takes for them to walk across the bar and disappear onto the cold, crowded street.
Then, I drop it and collapse onto the cushion behind me.
Another group swarms the now-open couches, so I hop up with my glass and wander through the crowd toward the first empty barstool I see.
“Hey, Joel!” I shout over the fray as I sit down.
The bartender looks at me and raises his index finger, showing that he’ll be with me soon. I nod and wait, tipping my glass back one more time to try to claim the last drops on the bottom.
“Another refill?” Joel asks, finally appearing in front of me.
“Yes, please,” I answer, relinquishing the glass. “And make it extra strong.”
He nods with a smile. “Rough night?”
“No.” I shrug. “Yeah. No? I don’t know.”
He sets the fresh drink down in front of me. I drink it while I scan the room. Couples, old and new. Girls and boys nights out. Lonely people at the counter. Most bars in every major city look exactly the same. I used to love sitting in places like this, making up their stories, and writing idea after idea as they sprout fully formed in my brain.
But, lately…
None of it excites me anymore.
Only one thing does.
I grab my phone from the back pocket of my jeans. A fumbling swipe or two or three — make that four — and I check my text messages. A recent one from Trix letting me know they made it home all right. An old one from Nora saying that they’re saving my chair.
But nothing from him.
Joel refills my drink again. I drink it down. I get another one.
It has been over a week since the last text. I told him I was thinking about him. A man I’ve never met in person. A man whose voice I’ve never heard before. I don’t even know his name and I can’t stop thinking about him.
It started with roses. I got the first bouquet in May. A dozen roses tied together with a silver ribbon. No name, no card. Just a random gesture from a stranger.
Then I got another the next month. And another a month after that. But now, with notes!
For you, beautiful.
Is that smile for me?
You’re perfect. Just thought I’d let you know.
Harmless? Sure. Potentially dangerous stalker? I suppose so, but it’s not like anyone else was lining up to show me affection. I couldn’t help the way my gut leapt the moment I saw the flower delivery guy. I wanted to know more about my secret admirer. I needed to know if it was a potential soulmate or a horrible serial killer.
I gave the delivery service my phone number, at Trix’s suggestion, and asked that they pass it on the next time someone ordered flowers for me.
And it worked.
For a month, we texted non-stop. We talked long into the night. No face-to-face. No awkward silences. It was just words on a screen, but I can’t say I’ve felt so close to another person in so long.
But then… it stopped.
Radio silence.
Why?
What did I do wrong this time?
The crowd thins out and the live music gets replaced by the corner jukebox. I draw pictures through the water rings on the bar as I wonder whether I should text him right now.
“Hey, Melanie.”
I raise my head and smile. “Hey, Joely.”
“Time to tab-out?” he asks. “Get a cab?”
I chuckle. “I don’t need a cab.”
“You don’t need another drink, either.”
“Pfft.” I push my empty glass in his direction. “One more.”
“Mel…”
“Joel, I’m fine.”
He raises a brow.
I sigh. “Whatever, just…” I push my hair back behind my ears. “Where’s my happy ending?”
Joel squints. “Your what?”
“Nora has Clive and their kinky sex stuff,” I say, slurring slightly. “Trix has Lance and their probably adorable fetus.” I point at my face. “What about me, Joel? What do I get?”
He stares in confusion. “You get a cab.”
“No— jeez— you don’t get it. What I’m trying to say is—”
Joel turns away from me and walks to the other end of the bar.
“Um...” I glare at his back. “Hello? Rude!”
“Wow, so this is what it’s like on the other side.”
I deflate at the sound of the deep, amused voice behind me. “No,” I say, clenching my eyes closed. “No, no, no—”
“You know, I never thought I’d have to come down to the bar to take you home. Usually the other way around…”
My head rolls back and I come face-to-face with Robbie Wheeler.
My ex-husband.
The biggest pain my ass ever did see.
“What the fuck are you doing
